You Know How This Ends
by TheTiredWriter
Summary: "Please, you and I both know how this ends. So you don't kill me. It won't stop me from tearing you apart." Natalia Romanova thought she would die in that alley. Clint Barton opened her eyes to something spectacular.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! I wrote this chapter a while ago and after some revisions, I think it's ready to go! Endgame was such a depressing end for all us Clintasha diehards, so I figured we could use a little bit of imagination to forget it all. Heads up before you read: It's early 2005. I messed with Clint's age a bit but that's no big deal. Other than that, I'll update you for anything else you need to know in my timeline before future chapters. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

* * *

"What the hell is this Barton? I sent you to kill her, not recruit her!"

"I'm sorry sir. I couldn't kill her."

"I don't care if you think the woman is an angel from up above, she's a goddamn threat!"

The said woman behind the double-sided mirror tilted her head as if she were listening to the two men bicker. Clint wouldn't be surprised if she was.

The director sighed. "Coulson said you could get the job done, Barton. That you would put an arrow between her eyes. Guess he was wrong."

The young agent straightened. "He wasn't wrong, sir. I brought her in because she could be useful," _That's a lie. _"She has certain skills that could prove to be assets. Put her in a fight and tell me I'm wrong."

Clint didn't bring her in because he thought she would be a good agent. He saw something in her eyes, something that struck him to his core. Fear. Fear of dying, of giving up hope. He brought her in because he wanted to give her the chance to change. If he was wrong, Clint wouldn't hesitate to kill her. But he had a feeling that he wasn't wrong.

Fury sighed and turned to look back through the window. "You have 5 minutes."

"Thank you, sir. You won't be disappointed." Barton headed toward the door and left the room.

* * *

Natalia waited. She still didn't understand why she was here in the first place. If that man was a good agent, he would've taken the first shot available. Why save the life of a criminal? A section of the wall opened, and her captor shuffled into the small room. He sat across from her and started to speak.

"My name is Agent Barton," He squinted his eyes. "Do you understand English?"

Natalia scoffed, "You offend me, Agent."

Barton shifted uncomfortably. "So, yes. Well then, this will be a lot easier. My Russian isn't very good," He coughed. "Do you know where you are?"

"SHIELD," she replied with ease. "A base somewhere in the United States, I believe."

The young agent nodded carefully. "So, you're the infamous Black Widow."

"Do you start every interrogation with stating the obvious?" the assassin scoffed.

* * *

Behind said mirror, Director Fury rubbed his temples. _Pull it together, Barton._

* * *

He tried again, "Ms. Romanova, I think we can work out a deal for you to come work for us."

"Please," she spat out, " you and I both know how this ends. So you don't kill me. It won't stop me from tearing you apart."

Clint took a sharp breath and sat up straight, "Fine. You don't want to play nice? I'll stop too."

She leaned forward, awaiting his questions.

"What were you doing in Minsk, Romanova?"

"Same as you, Barton. I was sent to kill someone. Only I completed my mission."

He slammed his palm down on the metal table; she didn't even flinch. "Who are you working for? Who do you answer to?"

Natalia's green eyes suddenly became much colder than before. "I don't answer to anybody. If they have a job for me, I'll take it. I work for nobody but myself."

The two stared at each other for minutes on end, neither side flinching. He had definitely hit a nerve.

Clint felt a buzz on his wrist. His five minutes were up. Rubbing his face, he finally said, "I wanna help you. I do. SHIELD pulled me out of a bad place. They made me realize that I could protect people, maybe even change their lives. I think they can do the same for you."

Barton slid his chair back and stood. Before opening the door, he looked back at the young women. She had her arms crossed and was lost in a train of thought. He sighed and walked out the door, shutting it closed behind him.

* * *

When Clint walked back into the adjoined room, Fury was still watching their Russian captive.

The younger man took a breath before speaking. "I'm sorry, sir. There doesn't seem to be any information can get out of her."

After a few agonizing seconds, the director finally turned his attention away from the window.

"Get her ready. Training starts tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome back! It's definitely been a hot minute but I finally got it together and decided to write another chapter. This one took a little more thought because I didn't love the way I ended the last chapter but I am too lazy to go back and change it. Oops.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything

* * *

"_It's alright, my love. Everything will be fine."_

_A gunshot. A scream. Repeat._

* * *

She shot up, drenched in sweat. It got her every single night. The same dream over and over again. No faces, just voices. Natalia was getting sick of it.

No, it was Natasha now. That's what Barton had said the day after she was given a room. A cell really, since she wasn't allowed to go anywhere but training. But she had never been in a cell this nice before.

She was just waiting until they came in and told her she had to go back. No more Natasha. Hell, no more Natalia. The Black Widow didn't have a name. She was one of the lucky ones who still remembered hers. Natalia. The only constant in her life had been her name, but now that was gone and she didn't know what would come next.

* * *

He brought her breakfast every morning for the first two weeks. "Made by yours truly," he would repeat day in and day out. Barton talked non stop as she ate. Yesterday, it was a detailed report on how he tricked rookies into eating ridiculous things as a part of "initiation". The day before that, he was complaining about how he never saw his girlfriend because their missions never coincided. Natasha didn't mind his stories; they were good background noise while she ate.

The training was more difficult than she first believed it would be, but it didn't hold a candle to the training at the Red Room. It focused on working with a team, something Natasha had never experienced before. When the other trainees took a lunch break, an agent led her to a separate room, something she had asked Barton about once. "They can't trust you yet. Don't worry though, it won't take very long," He replied quickly before launching into his next story.

* * *

Natasha met Agent Phil Coulson on her second day of training when he came and sat with her at lunch. She couldn't see how a man so ordinary and unassuming could be one of the agency's best field officers. The only thing she could see him doing was filing paperwork and making ridiculous jokes. The first thing Coulson did when he sat down across from her was state that Clint meant everything to him, that he trusted his judgment despite his seemingly rash decision-making skills. After that, they sat in silence, chewing their cafeteria-issued turkey sandwiches. When he stood to leave, he sighed, "We're counting on you, Romanoff. Don't fuck it up." Offering a small smile, he left leaving Natasha staring at the spot he had occupied.

* * *

The first day Barton didn't knock on the cell door announcing Breakfast was the first day Natasha was allowed into the mess hall. She sat by herself. She had never been to a real school, never had to make friends. Natasha didn't mind the empty chairs at her table; there were enough conversations going on around her that kept her entertained.

"Oh my god, did you hear about the singer… fuck what's her name… c'mon help me out. Blonde, lots of drugs… anyway, I heard-"

"My mom called and said my sister brought home her girlfriend last weekend and-"

"I feel so bad for Sara. She and Mitch were really cute together. But of course, he was fucking that bitch from accounting-"

A bell rang as everyone's chairs scraped against the tile to return to training.

* * *

The voices in Natasha's dreams persisted, but the faces still never appeared. However, her days soon became less bleak. About a week and a half after he disappeared, Clint Barton returned with his slightly burnt bacon and extra over-easy eggs.

"Made by yours truly," he quipped as if he had never left.

Natasha took the plate graciously and began to eat. Not a single word escaped Barton's mouth; he just watched her. _Well, _she thought, looking at the sling and cast on his left arm, _something went wrong wherever the hell he went. _Contemplating her question for a moment, she swallowed and waved her forked at his injured arm.

"What happened to you?" She questioned tentatively.

"I fell." He deadpanned.

Natasha scoffed, which surprisingly made the archer smile. "Got caught in a gunfight," He motioned towards his shoulder. "Didn't end well for them but they still managed to get a lick in. Made me lose my balance and I dislocated my wrist breaking my fall."

"So basically," She smirked. "You're stupid."

He gasped and clutched his chest in a way that almost made her laugh. Almost. "Now, Agent Romanoff, what on Earth would make you say that?"

"You brought a bow to a gunfight."

"It was on a roof!" He protested.

She shook her head and continued eating. After a couple of minutes, Natasha thought she was going to have to come up with another conversation starter before Barton spoke again.

"So, the thing is, I'm not just here to watch you eat breakfast today," He began.

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed." She replied.

The elder agent gave her a playful glare before continuing. "You passed all your training. They're putting you in the field."

Natasha sighed with relief. She was staying. They weren't going to sen her back. At least not yet.

Barton pulled a file out from under his chair and set it in front of her. She set down her fork and picked up the mission file. It was marked _Strike Team Delta. _

"I don't understand." Natasha looked up from the document after flipping open the front cover. "What kind of mission is this?"

"It's a team," Barton answered as she continued flipping. "We're partners now, you and me." He pulled a badge out of his pocket. "Welcome to Level Three, Agent Romanoff."


End file.
